


don’t smile at me

by autoheart



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Shot, Pining Merlin (Merlin), all around dumb boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:30:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoheart/pseuds/autoheart
Summary: Sure, Merlin wished Arthur had gotten in touch after that night, but he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Fool him once and all that.





	don’t smile at me

It was Arthur’s. Of course, with his luck, it would be Arthur’s. What he wanted to know was how Arthur had managed to leave the party without realizing he’d forgotten his shirt. And why he’d taken it off in the first place. Merlin would have put money on a hook up, because Arthur was the type, but it was in the middle of the floor in the den, and there had been at least ten people in there at all times. And whatever type Arthur was, he wasn’t the type to shag in front of an audience. Thank god. With a hook up ruled out, he decided it had to have been some show of masculinity, because Arthur was also the type to get roped into some sort of shirts and skins beer bong game, and with a body like he had, he’d insist on being skins. That, Merlin decided, was far more likely.

He knew had had answered, “Oh, that’s Arthur’s,” too quickly when Gwaine had held up the shirt in confusion as they had cleaned up the flat that morning. It was hardly his fault that he’d noticed what Arthur was wearing. How could he not, when he had never seen the other boy in a button up before. It wasn’t even a particularly unique shirt, just red with a spray of tiny white flowers, but it did some sort of magic that made his arms look ten times more defined and left Merlin breathless. And red was so infuriatingly Arthur’s color, it was hard not to notice how good he looked.

“How can you be so sure?” Gwaine asked, a knowing grin on his face. He looked far too happy at having caught Merlin, given how hungover he was.

It wasn’t a secret Merlin thought Arthur was fit. It _was_ a secret that he wanted to marry him and have a bunch of blonde haired, blue eyed athletic children with him through a surrogate. Maybe just enough to have their own family football team that Arthur would coach while Merlin watched, proudly, from the sidelines.

Okay, maybe none of it was as much of a secret as Merlin hoped, at least not from Gwaine. Gwaine was good at reading Merlin, much to his chagrin, but what were best friends for if not for saying “You think he’s hot, don’t you? Oh my god, you do!!” every time he caught you looking at someone for too long.

What was a secret, completely and totally, even from Gwaine, was that Arthur and Merlin had a history. If he could be so bold as to call a singular hook up at one of Gwaine’s infamous parties a history. If he could be so bold as to call a singular sloppy make out session a hook up.

“I just remember he was wearing it, okay? Not all of us were blacked out last night,” Merlin said, turning to the sofa under the ruse of picking up the cups scattered there to hide the way he blushed at Gwaine’s knowing stare.

“Right, of course, and you made sure to catalogue what each and every guest was wearing, should they lose something. Ever the considerate host, Merlin,” Gwaine said. He threw a cup at the back of Merlin’s head, forcing him to turn around and shoot him a displeased look.

“I just happen to remember it’s his, that’s all. Give it back to him whenever you see him next,” Merlin said, shrugging.

Arthur was Gwaine’s friend, after all. Merlin doubted he’d be seeing him again until Gwaine convinced him into wrecking their shared flat with another rager a few months down the line, when Merlin forgot how much he hated them.

“Why should I be the one to give it back? Why not you?”

“I don’t even have his number, Gwaine,” Merlin rolled his eyes, tying the overflowing bin bag he had been carrying shut and going in search of another.

“I could give it to you.”

“Or,” Merlin said, raising his voice over the rustle of the new bag as he opened it, “you could give _Arthur_ his _shirt.”_

“Well, that specifically goes against flat contract. Article 4 section seven clearly states the person who is able to identify the item must return it to the owner, in a timely fashion,” Gwaine said, dangling the shirt in front of Merlin’s face, close enough that he could smell it. Deodorant, cigarettes, the slightest touch of stale beer, and Arthur’s aftershave. It smelled of that night, so many months before. Merlin swatted away, in spite of the intense urge he felt bury his face in it.

“You can’t just add articles to the flat contract willy nilly, Gwaine.”

“Seeing as I am the one studying law and you’re the one studying literature, I think I’m the one that knows what I can and cannot do with the flat contract. Article four. Section seven. The person who is able to identify the item must return it to the owner. Especially when the person is Merlin and the owner is Arthur, who Merlin so desperately wants to pull,” Gwaine said, shaking the shirt as punctuation.

Merlin snatched the shirt from him and dropped the bin bag on the floor.

“Send me his number, asshole. Oh, and article four, section 8 clearly states the person _not_ in charge of lost and found has to clean the rest of the flat themselves,” Merlin said, heading to his bedroom.

“It does NOT,” Gwaine called after him.

“Oh, but it does.”

“Merlin, you can’t just add-“ Gwaine stopped himself, realizing he was about to contradict himself. “I’ll send you the bleeding number,” he sighed, defeated.

“That’s what I thought,” Merlin said. “And I _do not_ want to pull _Arthur Pendragon_.”

 _I just want to pick out wedding stationary with him and fight over whether our colors are red or blue before finally deciding on neither and going with gold and silver,_ Merlin added, mentally.

Gwaine gave him a look that said “Sure, Merlin.” and went back to reassembling their flat.

 

***

 

He had been looking at the message he typed for ten minutes. It was fine. It was to the point. There was no subtext that could be found or imagined in what he said. Still, his brain seemed fixated on the possibility that Arthur would be able to divine Merlin’s feelings from nothing.

He had given Arthur his number that night, a few months back. Arthur had never texted him. Which surely meant he wanted nothing to do with Merlin.

 

M: Hey, Arthur! It’s Merlin, Gwaine’s flatmate. Found this shirt while cleaning up, wondered if it was yours?

 

He attached a picture of the shirt, laid out on his bed.

 

A: Hey! Merlin! Good to hear from you. That would be my shirt.

 

Merlin was taken aback at the quickness of his reply.

 

M: How can I get it back to you?

 

He had decided to keep the conversation business casual.

 

A: I don’t want you going out of your way, I’m the ass that left it there.  

 

“You’re also the ass that never texted me after sticking your tongue in my mouth, but that doesn’t seem to bother you,” Merlin said under his breath before answering.

 

M: I can drop it by your flat if you want?

 

A: I live a bit far from you, but I work pretty close. You know the sushi place over by the tube station, the one across from that coffee shop Gwaine likes?

 

M: Yeah, I think so.

 

A: I tend bar there. I’ll be on my break around eight tomorrow night if you want to stop by. I’ll make it worth your while. Pint on me.

 

M: I’ll be there. And that’s not necessary. I’m not sure beer and I are on speaking terms after last night.

 

“And I’m not sure _we_ are on speaking terms either.”

 

A: I really, really get that. I took the tube home shirtless and don’t even remember it, which tells you what kind of morning I’m having. A coke on me, then.

 

M: That sounds better. See you around eight tomorrow.

 

A: See you

 

Merlin eyed the shirt where it was spread on his duvet, resisting the urge to smell it again. Anything involving stale beer shouldn’t smell good, but anything involving Arthur _had_ to smell nice, even if he was fooling himself. There was only one solution.

 

He knew it was wasteful to wash a single shirt in a load of laundry, but what choice did he have? All his clothes were clean, apart from what he was wearing, and Gwaine’s clothes were like a toxic waste site, so he didn’t want to contaminate Arthur’s things with any close contact, though it would give him some sort of satisfaction to do so.

And when Arthur saw his shirt was washed, he would just think that Merlin was incredibly considerate. Which was better than him thinking he was a lovesick creep who couldn’t stop sniffing it until all traces of him had been washed away by laundry detergent and cold water.

 

***

It was around midnight when Merlin’s phone buzzed again.

 

A: I hate to ask, but did I make a right fool of myself? You can tell me, I won’t be offended.

Merlin’s heart quickened at the sight of Arthur’s name on his phone, again, unsolicited. It meant that he was thinking about Merlin. At midnight. Maybe he was in bed, thinking about him. Or maybe he was in bed, fretting over whether or not he made a complete ass of himself at the party and Merlin seemed like the most appropriate person to ask. Merlin was inclined to believe the latter, but image of Arthur, lying in bed and staring at his phone, trying to think of anything to say, anything at all he could shoot Merlin’s way, was too delicious to abandon entirely.

 

Merlin began to type “You didn’t make a fool of yourself last night, but I can’t say the same for the party a few months back.” He thought about it momentarily before erasing it.

 

M: If I had seen, I would tell you, but unfortunately I wasn’t there whenever you decided to strip.

 

A: Unfortunately?

 

Merlin panicked.

 

M: Unfortunate because I can’t tell you if you made a fool of yourself.

 

A: Right, well. I am sure I can ask Gwaine.

 

M: Oh, he wasn’t there either.

 

A: Oh… was he with you? Wherever you were?

 

M: Yeah, we were outside with Gwen, probably.

 

A: Oh ok. I like Gwen, she’s a nice girl.

 

M: Yeah she’s great.

 

A: Are you two??

 

M: Me?? And Gwen??? Never in a million years.

 

A: Haha ok, touchy.

 

M: If you’re asking because you want to pull, you go ahead and try.

 

A: Pull who? Gwen?

 

M: Yeah, Gwen? Who else?

 

A: I’m good.

 

Why in the world, Merlin asked himself, was Arthur texting him about Gwen in the middle of the night. He supposed he could ask Gwen. But then again, he knew it wasn’t because Arthur liked Gwen because he said he didn’t. But to be fair, he also said _he_ didn’t like Arthur almost every day, and that was a bald-faced lie. So maybe Arthur did like Gwen. And maybe he knew Merlin and Gwen were friends. And he was really lying in bed thinking about Gwen when he texted Merlin. Texting Merlin, who had rucked Arthur’s shirt up and ran his hands all over his chest in the guest bathroom only a few months before. Merlin’s heart dropped into the very bottom of his stomach when he thought about that.

 

His phone buzzed.

 

A: What are you doing tomorrow?

 

That was a decidedly non-Gwen centric question. Unless, of course, he wanted to know if Merlin was going to see Gwen tomorrow and would he please bring her to the restaurant when he came by.

 

M: Nothing, apart from playing laundry delivery boy.

 

A: I’m sorry about that. I can pick it up from you if it’s easier, but I don’t get off work until around midnight.

 

M: Arthur, I was just kidding. I really don’t mind.

 

A: Well, if you’re sure.

 

A: I’m going to head off to bed. See you tomorrow. Night, Merlin.

 

M: Night, Arthur.

 

A: xx

 

Merlin threw his phone across the room, determined to forget the last message ever appeared on his screen.

***

“Where you off to?” Gwaine asked, eyeing the backpack that usually held Merlin’s school work, but currently held a single freshly washed and folded button up shirt, as he walked past.

“Studying.”

“On a Sunday? Where?” Gwaine said, leaning back into the couch where he sat.

“Coffee shop,” Merlin said, trying to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

“Pretty dolled up to study,” Gwaine said, taking note of Merlin’s jeans, which were his best fitting dark wash skinnies, and his desert boots. He was wearing a simple but well fitting blue sweater. He wouldn’t say he looked like he was trying especially hard, but he looked like he was trying harder than normal. “Wouldn’t happen to be going to the coffee shop over by where Arthur works, would you?”

“Not sure, where does Arthur work?”

“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Merls,” Gwaine said, relishing the way Merlin’s nose wrinkled at the nickname.

“Go, have your little rendezvous. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, and what wouldn’t you do?” Merlin asked, hand on the doorknob.

“I usually draw the line somewhere after public indecency and before petty theft,” Gwaine shrugged. “Go now, or you’ll miss the train.”

 

***

 

He paused for a moment outside the sushi place. He had been here before, but way back in his first year. He pushed through the door, making his way over to the bar before the hostess could ask him if he wanted a table.

 

Arthur was stood behind it, facing the back and stacking glasses. If Merlin thought he looked good in red, it was only because he’d not seen him in white. Now, in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his maddening forearms, Merlin thought he might pass out. He cleared his throat over the music. Arthur turned, a smile breaking out over his face when he spotted Merlin.

 

“Taking my break!” he called over his shoulder.

“Ten minutes, Arthur,” called back a woman’s voice from a storeroom.

“Fifteen and we’ll call it a deal,” he called back.

“Ten!” the voice replied.

 

“Fifteen,” Arthur said to Merlin as he came out from behind the bar. “She’s my sister, she can’t fire me. Follow me,” he said, leading Merlin through the restaurant, through the kitchen and out a back door.

Merlin swallowed wordlessly. He had forgotten how much he liked the other boy’s smile. It was that smile that had made Merlin so eager to kiss him. In fact, though the night was a bit hazy, Merlin was sure they had hardly talked before finding their way into the bathroom. All Arthur had had to do was smile with those particularly pointy eye teeth, which were so endearing to Merlin.

“I appreciate you coming all this way,” Arthur said, turning to him. He pulled a box of cigarettes out of his apron and offered one to Merlin. Merlin took it. He normally only smoked when he drank, but he needed something to do with his hands.

 

“It was only ten minutes” Merlin said, letting Arthur light his cigarette for him.

 

Arthur smiled. “Feeling better than yesterday morning?”

“Loads. You?” Merlin asked.

“Definitely better, now,” Arthur said, tapping off his ash.

 

Merlin’s stomach did a flip flop. He ignored it.

“Here’s your shirt, by the way,” Merlin said, pulling it out of his pack.

“Thanks,” Arthur took it, his fingers brushing against Merlin’s as he did. He unfolded the shirt and slung it over his shoulder, pausing after he did. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. “You washed it?”

“Hope you don’t mind,” Merlin answered. “Someone spilled beer on it at some point,” he added. Did extra detail give away the fact you were lying, or help to hide it? He couldn’t remember.

“I don’t mind at all. It smells nice,” Arthur smiled at him. “I’m lucky you didn’t keep it. It would have suited you.”

“Me? I’d be swimming in it. Not sure you noticed, but I’ve not got much in the way of muscle,” Merlin laughed.

“Yeah, but thin boys in half buttoned up oversized shirts is kind of a look right now, isn’t it?”

“On like, Instagram. Not on boys like me.”

“I think you’d look fit,” Arthur shrugged.

Merlin suppressed a gasp and raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “Red’s not my color.”

“Looks like blue is,” Arthur said. “I’ve got a blue one, too.”

“You seem rather keen on me wearing your clothes, Arthur.”

“I mean, if you have to wear something,” Arthur said, with a wink.

 

“Arthur,” the voice -Arthur’s sister- called from inside, saving Merlin from having to reply.

“One second, Morgana,” Arthur yelled back, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. “Thanks,” he said, holding up the shirt. “You want to come in for that drink?”

“Rain check?” Merlin managed to croak. He wasn’t sure if he could breathe in the same room as Arthur for much longer.

“Yeah, sure,” Arthur agreed. “I’ll text you.”

 

_Yeah, right._

***

 

Another text a midnight.

 

A: I was thinking…

 

M: Were you?

 

A: About the rain check…

 

M: What about it?

 

He was going to cancel. Merlin was sure of it. He had been incredibly awkward at the bar and now Arthur didn’t want him darkening the doorway with his inept social skills again. Their short interaction had reminded Arthur of why he ghosted Merlin in the first place.

 

A: I was thinking it’s better if you don’t come here.

 

Merlin’s heart sank.

 

A: My sister will yell at me for slacking off the whole time.

 

He was pretty sure his heart had exited his physical body and was now descending into the core of the Earth.

 

A: So.. I was thinking I could buy you a drink somewhere else? Maybe some place where we can talk and people won’t constantly be interrupting me asking for another round.

 

Merlin’s heart took a sharp upward turn and started rocketing back towards its rightful position.

 

M: That could be arranged.

 

A: Great! When are you free?

 

Merlin was always free. Well, not always, he had exams coming up that he would do well to study for, but it wasn’t every day the hottest boy you had ever seen asked you if he could take you for a drink. When the chance arose, you took it. Even if the hottest boy you had ever seen had proven to be a bit of an ass.

 

M: When’s the next time you’re off?

 

A: Wednesday night.

 

M: Works for me if it works for you.

 

A: Oh, it very much works for me.

 

***

Merlin was sprawled out on the floor of the den, surrounded by about six trees worth of paper. He had a research paper that he should have started on weeks ago but had put off until now, but it worked out. Afterall, he needed some sort of distraction from the rather annoying mantra his brain had taken up the night before. _You’re getting drinks with Arthur Pendragon, you’re getting drinks with Arthur Pendragon,_ **_you’re_ ** _getting drinks with_ **_Arthur Pendragon-_ **

“So I heard you’re getting drinks with Arthur Pendragon,” Gwaine interrupted, slamming the door behind him as he entered the flat. He was in a right state, sweating through one of his gym t-shirts.

“From who?” Merlin tried to remain uninterested.

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“Hm. Seems like a reliable source.”

“Come on, Merlin, I know you’re absolutely buzzing about it, don’t act all cool,” Gwaine said, nudging Merlin with his toe as he passed.

“I’m not acting cool.”

“Is it a date?” Gwaine asked.

“No,” Merlin replied much to quickly.

“No?”

“It’s not,” Merlin said, with conviction.

“If you say so,” Gwaine said, unconvinced. He headed off to the bathroom to shower without another word. He may be a bit pushy, but he knew when to stop pushing with Merlin.

 

As if on queue, Arthur texted him.

 

A: Hey, was thinking I’d come by yours round seven on Wednesday if that’s alright by you?

 

M: More than alright.

 

A: Great. Looking forward to it.

 

Merlin pauses, listening for the water running in the shower to ensure Gwaine wouldn’t walk in on him, before rolling in to his back and clutching his phone to his chest and sighing like a lovelorn school girl.

 

***

 

The doorbell rang at precisely seven on Wednesday. Merlin did his five billionth mirror check of the evening before going to open the door.  

Arthur was standing in the hallway in the same red button up. His face broke into that adorable, pointy smile upon seeing Merlin.

Merlin had gone for a blue t-shirt and his worn brown leather jacket after hours of deliberation and about fifteen outfit changes. Now he felt terribly underdressed.

“Hey,” Arthur said, his eyes dragging down Merlin’s body before coming back to his face. Merlin was sure no one had ever looked at him like _that_. Arthur licked his lips before continuing, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, his voice quieter than he had anticipated.

“Brilliant. I hope you don’t mind we’re just going to the pub down the way,” Arthur said, waiting as Merlin locked up behind him.

“Not at all,” Merlin said, shooting Arthur a smile. “Nice shirt.”

“I promise to keep it on this time,” Arthur laughed as they started their way downstairs.

Merlin wished he wouldn’t.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming to pick you up, I just thought…”

“What?” Merlin asked Arthur trailed off.

“Well, I thought that if I was going to take you out I ought to do it proper.”

“So you’re taking me out, are you?” Merlin said, feeling smoother than he ever had before. “Here I was thinking this was just a thank you drink.”

“If that’s alright with you,” Arthur said, a phrase that seemed to be becoming a pattern with him.

“I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Why?” Arthur asked, stopping in his tracks.

“You never texted me!”

“I did!! I meant to tell you the other night,” Arthur began, laughing.

“Arthur, you don’t have to lie. I understand if you changed your mind.”

It had been weeks before Merlin had stopped feeling shit about the whole thing. He didn’t want to reopen any wounds. He didn’t want to have to get over Arthur again.

“Clearly, I didn’t.”

“Change your mind or text me?”

“Change my mind, _Mer_ lin. You were so drunk you put your number in wrong. I texted you and you never answered so I called at it was some old lady named Ethel who didn’t know how to work iMessages,” Arthur explained.

“Now you’re taking the piss. I’ve never been drunk enough to forget my own damn phone number,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe this drink isn’t such a good idea. I’m not someone you can just… Chat up when you get bored.”

“Hand to God, that’s what happened, Merlin. I can show you the text if you want.”

The mood had already been soured. Merlin wasn’t sure why he didn’t just turn back and go into his flat.

Instead he said “Alright.”

Arthur pulled out his phone and began scrolling through messages before he came to one under Merlin, a little red heart emoji in the contact name that Merlin didn’t remember putting there himself. Maybe he was that drunk.

“Here,” Arthur said, handing him the phone, looking away sheepishly.

 

Merlin looked at the texts.

 

A: Hey, it’s Arthur.

A: this is cheesy, but I can’t stop thinking about you.

A: sorry if that’s too much.

A: Shit that was way too much wasn’t it?

 

Merlin had to stop himself from smiling.

 

“Okay, maybe you aren’t a liar,” he said finally, handing Arthur’s phone back to him.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, starting back down the hall towards the door.

Merlin hurried behind him. Arthur held the door for him, but didn’t look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said as he exited.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Arthur shrugged.

“So you couldn’t stop thinking about me?” Merlin asked, quietly.

“ _Can’t._ Can’t stop thinking about you,” Arthur said, stopping again.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Merlin said, stopping a few paces ahead of Arthur and turning around. “I think we’re both a bit stupid. And in need of a fresh start.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And where do you suggest we start?” Arthur asked, stepping closer to Merlin.

“How did we start last time?” Merlin asked.

Arthur smiled.

“Ah, yes I think it was something like that,” Merlin laughed.

Arthur paused, confused.

“Like what?”

“With your stupid pointy teeth,” Merlin clarified.

“I have pointy teeth?” Arthur asked, pressing a finger to his eye tooth. “Is that some kind of kink?”

“No!” Merlin nearly shouted. “I just found it… incredibly cute. Your smile, that is. And it’s… pointy-ness.”

“See, I remember it starting something more like this,” Arthur said, stepping closer to Merlin, placing a hand on his upper arm. His eyes met Merlin’s, a question in his eyes. Merlin nodded every so slightly. Arthur brought his lips to Merlin, much more gently than he had before. Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s chest, balling his fist into his shirt, the shirt that smelled like his laundry detergent, the shirt that smelled like cigarette smoke, and aftershave, and _himself_.

Arthur pulled away first.

“Something like that,” he murmured, blushing and looking at the pavement.

“No, it definitely started with the smile,” Merlin answered. “But that was definitely an important part of it.”

He tilted Arthur’s chin back up, connecting their lips for another brief moment.

Arthur hummed into the kiss.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the other night?” he asked, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Merlin answered. “I thought you wanted to forget about that whole thing.”

“I was desperate for you to talk to me, Merlin,” Arthur said, his breath hot against Merlin’s cheek. “I have a confession to make.”

“Yes?”

“I know how I left my shirt at your flat. And so does Gwaine.”

“What?!” Merlin gasped, pulling back so he could see Arthur more clearly. He thought about the addition Gwaine had made to the flat contract. Of course, he was in on it the bloody bastard.

“I left it knowing Gwaine would make you return it to me and then I’d have an excuse to talk to you,” Arthur said, clearly embarrassed.

“But your shirt?? You went shirtless about town to get me to talk to you?” Merlin said, flabbergasted.

“Oh, no, I borrowed one of Gwaine’s and left before you saw me,” Arthur replied.

“So you _are_ a liar.”

“Maybe a little bit, but aren’t you glad?” Arthur smiled again, devilishly.

Merlin should never had told him about the teeth. Now he was using them against him.

“You complete and utter ass,” Merlin said. “If Gwaine knew, you could have just asked him for my number.”

“By the time I thought of that, it was already too late! You already thought I was some fuck and chuck asshole,” Arthur explained.

“Yeah, some _fit_ fuck and chuck asshole I’d do anything to kiss again,” Merlin replied.

“Well, on top of that Gwaine didn’t know everything. He didn’t know about that night,” Arthur replied. “He just knew I wanted to ask you out.”

 

A car sped down the street, a wolf whistle sounding as it passed, and Merlin was suddenly aware that he had been snogging a boy in the middle of the road for far too long.

“I need a bloody drink,” Merlin sighed.

“That can be arranged,” Arthur said, an echo of Merlin’s text a few nights before.

“You owe me, you schemer.”

“I schemed out of love,” Arthur said, taking Merlin’s hand in his and resuming their walk toward the pub.

“You’re going to be the end of me, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin said, but found it was rather hard to sound annoyed when he was so giddy.

“And I’ll gladly have you be the end of me,” Arthur said, squeezing his hand. “But drinks first. And then kissing. A lot of it. We have lost time to make up for.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! this is dumb but i love fluff/getting together fics so. That’s what I write. Be the hero you want to see and that sort thing. Not that there’s any shortage of fics like this, but the world needs more dumb sappy in it. I’m working on a terribly long modern setting au and i am desperate to get it done, so of course my brain has decided it only wants to work on one shots. Anyway, if you’re into long fics, there is well and truly one on the way. Also, may make this one a series if I come up with a continuation, but i’m not sure. This is long and rambly and I usually don’t do notes so forgive me this one. Hope you liked it, hope to see you back. Writing Merlin fics has been super fun and I really want to do more!


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